


Ten Stories of Red and Blue

by giallarhorn



Category: Fringe
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giallarhorn/pseuds/giallarhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten drabbles split between Lincoln/Olivia Over Here, and Altlivia/Alt!Lincoln Over There.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Stories of Red and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely sweet_anise on LJ for the prompt Lincoln/Olivia, either universes.

**AU**

            Inspector Lincoln Lee had been through academy, could pilot most ships through the most treacherous regions of space, memorized the Galactic Treatise and the laws that he swore to uphold.

            He knew that life didn’t always turn out as predicted. He just hadn’t expected that the smuggler Oliver Twist to be a woman named Olivia Dunham.

            The blond woman eyes him from across the table, her eyes fixed on him. “You do realize transport of Class 4 medications without license is a crime?”

            “Listen to me, Inspector Lee. A lot of people on the Fringe planets are in need of that medicine that they wouldn’t be able to get otherwise, due to various complications. And even when they did get it, it’d get there too late before the plague would take such a toll on the population,” she leans forward, “So either you let me go to do my job and make this delivery that your government isn’t capable of performing and everyone lives, or you stick to the letter of your Treatise and keep me here, lock me up and then watch the news knowing that all those deaths are on your head.

            “It’s your call.”

 

**Tragedy**

            The number registers as _Olivia Dunham_. He flips open the phone, preparing himself to for a case. “Hello? This is-”

            “Lincoln-” her voice breaks over the phone, and he can hear screams in the background. “Lincoln, you have to help me.”

            “What’s wrong?” He reaches for his keys and is out the door in a second. “Is it Walter?”

            “No, Lincoln. _Oh god_.” He hears static till he realizes that it isn’t static that he’s hearing but Olivia _sobbing_ and trying to talk.

            “Olivia, calm down and breathe.” There’s a harsh intake of breath through the receiver.

“Lincoln, its Ella.”

 

**Romance**

            “I’m not going to lie, I was wondering if you had forgotten.”

            “I’m sorry about that.” Olivia smiles, “I really don’t know what’s gotten into me lately- it might’ve been that I took one too many pills.”

            _I’m sorry_ \- Lincoln had noticed that she always seems to be apologizing for a sort of imagined wrong, trying to fix things. “Well, good thing there’s a lot of paperwork involved in these cases.” They both laugh, the situation diffused.

            “Uh, listen,” she hesitates. “I’ve got an appointment early morning, but welcome to come over.”

            “That’d” he considers what her words mean, “Be good.”

 

**First time**

            Olivia isn’t sure what to make of him- Agent Lincoln Lee, the newest addition of Fringe Division. His case file indicates that he had been assigned to the Hartford Field Office, former partner of Robert Danzig. His case reports are impeccable and polite and nothing is out of place. The best way that she can describe him, lacking a better choice, is _polished_. Polished like a newly minted coin, gleaming with enthusiasm and untarnished by any of the rigors that he has been through.

            Losing his partner couldn’t have been easy, she knows. So she wonders what’s beneath that suit.

 

**Hurt/Comfort**

            He swirls his coffee, watching the cream in eddies and whorls. “You know when you asked me if I was alright?”

            She nods. “Listen, it’s normal if this stuff is starting to get to you.”

            “It’s,” he sighs and wishes that it was related to the things that he had seen- that it was the breakdown of the fundamental universe he knew. He’d be lying if he said that it was. “It’s just that. I lost my partner to _something_. I…I’m _shaken_ and confused and I don’t understand the things that are happening-”

            “Lincoln,” she hesitates, “You’re gonna be alright.”

 

**Humor**

            “For the record, I’m saying that this is the worst idea-”

            “Don’t be a worrier. You’re _all_ about diving right into the situation, aren’t you?”

            “Liv, I really don’t think I meant it like this when I said that.”

            “You know you’ve been waiting for this. I’m almost there, so just shut up.”

            “We don’t know when they’re going to come-”

            “Throw your hips out a bit more. Ohh, that’s right.”

            “You’re making this more difficult than it should be, Liv.”

            “Almost. Enjoying the show from down there?”

            “My knees- _unfff_.”

            “Aren’t you happy I’m not wearing a dress now?”

 

**Crossover**

            “Class 1 breach, right?” He steps out of the car and fiddles with his coin, surveying the park. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

            She shrugs. “That’s what the Looker said.”

            “Maybe she got it wrong?”

            “Or maybe you took a wrong turn on that road back there?”

            “Listen Liv, if you have a problem with my driving, you can drive next time.”

            “Ohh, _Captain_ letting me do the driving now?” She grins. “How _exciting_.”

            He shakes his head and catches something out of the corner of his eye. “Liv, why’s there a blue telephone box here?”

 

**Angst**

            When she saunters in and sees him at the bar, shoulders hunched ( _tensed, apprehensive- she reads the lines of his body as a map_ ) and knows that this isn’t good.

            “Heya there boss.” She slides into the seat next to his.

            He grins, “Hey Liv.”

            It’s all there in his face. “What’s wrong?”

            He downs s shot and slides a folder with _Confidential_ on it, those red letters accusing. “Read it.”

            It’s a case file from Over There. She flips through it, and the words jump out at her ( _Federal Agent Charlie Francis, deceased, killed in action by shapeshifter of unknown origin- date of death unknown. No body recovered_ ) and she realizes why Charlie isn’t here. “Lincoln-”

            “We killed him. Our side killed Charlie. Tell me, Liv, _what does that make us_?”

 

**Fluff**

            Lincoln was absolutely positive that he could handle Henry. He remembers what he told her that morning when she was going in for her evaluations, that it’d be fine, she didn’t need to call her mom and that dealing with multiple Fringe events would make babysitting nothing at all.

            She raised her eyebrow but relented.

            It hadn’t been five minutes in before Henry woke up and started crying. An hour later, Lincoln found the list that told him it was meal time and then ten minutes later found Henry behind a couch.

            He never knew raising children was so hard.

 

**Crack!fic plot**

            The hardest part about the job isn’t anything like keeping secrets. They share their secrets with each other, are the only confidants that they’d ever need.

            The hardest part, Liv says, is getting changed and into those ridiculous outfit fast enough. Lincoln doesn’t have a problem with it, she points out, because he can just wear the suit under button up shirts and whip off his glasses in a phone box, and he’s transformed to the man millions know.

            She doesn’t have that luxury, because her outfit is so damn uncomfortable and hard to put on.

            It’s hard being superheroes.

 


End file.
